


50 Wordless Ways To Say I Love You

by WhisperElmwood



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Dum-E - Freeform, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mental Health Issues, PTSD, Tumblr Prompt, Ways To Say I Love You, prompt list, soft, u - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-09 21:11:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18925102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhisperElmwood/pseuds/WhisperElmwood
Summary: Exactly what it says on the tin. They will all be set in the same verse and will follow the progression of their relationship, from 1 to 50.





	1. Holding their hands when they are shaking.

**Author's Note:**

> Basically I'm having a rough mental health sort of... year? So while I'm working on the heavier To Live Is An Act Of Courage, this one will be the fluff that keeps me going. It's a prompt list I found on tumblr and once I figure out how to do links I'll link it. I'll add tags as they become relevant. Also characters.

“Stark? Thought I’d pop in with lunch, Pepper said you’ve been down here for going on seventy-two hours now.” Stephen looks around as he steps through the portal into the lab. Typically he would portal to the hall outside, knock on the door and wait to be let in, he does understand boundaries after all, but Pepper had sounded worried enough that he is willing to risk impoliteness to make sure Tony is alright. 

The lab is as astonishingly interesting as always, holograms hanging in the air all around the space, a dozen,  _ two  _ dozen, different projects all open and on the go at once. A smell of electricity and motor oil in the air, a half dozen machines in various stages of build scattered over different workbenches. The music, for once, is actually low, average person levels, and it’s this that gives him pause as the portal whirs to a close behind him. “Tony?” 

Dum-E makes a whirring noise from his charging station, U lifting his arm-cam to look over his brother’s ‘head’. They stay where they are, though. Stephen stands in the middle of the space, turning slowly in an effort to see where Tony could possibly - ah. Not good.

He hastily places the bags of cheese burgers and tray of coffee on the nearest clear worktop and moves to the far corner of the room where Tony - beautiful, marvelous, infuriating,  _ hurting  _ Tony - is curled into himself, back pressed hard against the wall, shoulders hunched and arms over his head, knees drawn up tight. Pressed himself into the smallest space he can, as if it will protect him from his own brain. 

Stephen can hear his panicked breathing, muffled as it is by arms and knees, as he drops to his own just within reach, one hand lifted as if to touch. But he doesn’t. He knows better.

“Stark?” He waits a beat, “Tony?” 

Tony takes a deep breath, suddenly, and lifts his head. His eyes are red rimmed, wet and wide, panicked. Stephen has no idea what triggered it, but he’s clearly coming down from a panic attack. 

“Fuck… Strange? Why…” his voice is rough, raspy, like he’s screamed somewhere in the last hour. A bad one, then. 

Stephen smiles a little, keeps his voice low; “Lunch. Pepper’s been worried, so I thought I’d come down with some cheeseburgers for you.”

Tony’s features scrunch a little. He drops his hands over his face - they tremble and twitch, almost as badly as Stephen’s - and rubs vigorously, before dropping over his knees. His wrists look pale and delicate in the harsh light of the lab. “I… could eat. Maybe. Cheese burgers?” 

“Yeah.” He’d gone immediately to cheese burgers when Pepper had contacted him, part intuition, part knowing Tony as well as he does at this point, part remembering his first press conference upon returning to the State’s after Afghanistan. “I thought you’d appreciate a real American burger.” 

Tony snorts and Stephen pretends not to watch as he wipes at his eyes. His breathing is still a bit hard, but it’s not as panicked and he takes that as a good sign. He doesn’t move, though, perfectly content to wait for Tony, to let him decide when he’s ready to get up. And, eventually, he does. 

They’re neither of them exactly young anymore, so regaining their feet after sitting on the floor comes with a forced chuckle of embarrassment as knees click and legs tingle as blood rushes back. He keeps his distance as they make their way to the workbench he had dropped lunch on, but Tony is still trembling a little, so he keeps a weather eye on him in case he stumbles. 

Stephen pulls the bag open as Tony tugs a stool closer and slides onto it, his movements jerky and still a little uncoordinated. He tries not to stare as the mechanic drops his face into his hands again, elbows on the worktop as he releases a world weary sigh. He looks… defeated. His shoulders droop, his hands tremble, his skin is still pallid, almost clammy, he doesn’t even move as Stephen places the food before him. He  _ does _ move when he places the coffee within reach, however, one hand coming out to grasp the recyclable cup. 

“Shit-” Tony fumbles the grip and it is only Stephen’s quick reflexes that saves the drink from spilling across the entire workbench. For a moment, they stay there, with Stephen’s hand wrapped around Tony’s wrapped around the cup and he just holds, gentle yet firm. His own hand is trembling, pretty much a given since the accident, but for all that his wasted fingers shake, they are still strong enough for this.    
  
“...thanks.” Tony finally breathes, and Stephen carefully lets go. 

 

01/50


	2. Tucking the sheets around them when they stir during the night

Working in the Lab with Tony and Bruce - sorry,  _Professor Hulk_  - and sometimes even Peter, becomes a sort of escape. Stephen is not there as often as he would like to be, he has his own job, after all. As Sorcerer Supreme, he is defender of the metaphysical realm, the borders of their reality and the multitudinous dimensions each vying for entry. He has to keep the borders held, help teach the new recruits, keep up his own studies, diffuse or capture and catalogue rogue magics, a myriad other things that he had never considered being any part of his life only two short years ago.

Whenever he sets foot in the place there is always something new and delightful to look at, to investigate, for Peter to ramble at him about or Bruce to ask for his opinion on. Tony himself is almost always bright grins and brighter eyes, tugging him over to look at his latest invention or code or toy or, hell, whatever it is his brain has come up with since the last visit.

In the months since Thanos’ defeat, they’ve all worked together more often than he had any idea he could ever be comfortable with. Righting wrongs, revolutionising the medical and technological fields, the biomechanical field, all in order to help bring the world back together again. It’s exhilarating in ways he thought he had lost since the accident, and while his first priority is the Sanctum and his duties as Sorcerer Supreme, coming here and doing this has become…  _important_ , as well.

So when he finally looks up from his work, long after Bruce and Peter have both headed to bed or home, expecting to be able to catch Tony’s attention to show him the small breakthrough he has just had, he finds that he is actually alone in the Lab. He is a little put out and frankly surprised. Tony is by far the one of them least likely to leave the Lab without due cause, and then typically with a lot of moaning and grumbling.

“Friday, could you save everything and put my work on hold please?”

“Sure thing, Doc,” the AI responds with all her usual jauntiness so he doesn’t worry anything  _bad_ has happened.

“Thank you.” He gets up and stretches, methodically working the kinks out of his back and shoulders before relaxing again and turning. And that is when he spots Tony. Stephen relaxes even further and even finds himself smiling at the sight.

Tony is sprawled bonelessly over the sofa, fast asleep, his hair a travesty, glasses at an uncomfortable angle on his slack features. There is more than one smear of engine grease on his face, his hands, all the way up his arms to the elbows. He looks like he will wake up with a hell of a crick in the neck. With a huff of amused concern, Stephen forms a few runes and carefully lifts the man and repositions him with a little magic. After a pause he uses a little more to banish the grease and oil from his skin.

“I’m sure it can wait until tomorrow,” he says to the sleeping man, and then glancing around he pulls the Iron Man themed throw blanket off the back of the sofa and down over Tony.

“Hrm..? Doc..?” He stirs a little but his eyes don’t open, so Stephen shushes him, “It’s fine, Tony, go back to sleep.” He gently tucks him in, careful to make sure he’s completely covered and wont catch a chill - in the highly advanced, AI protected, carefully temperature controlled research Lab… He rolls his eyes at himself, but does it anyway.

“Turn the lights down, Friday?” He says far more quietly as Tony drifts back into sleep again.

“Of course, Doc.” There’s a slight pause, “And thanks, Doc. I’ll keep an eye on him from here.”

Stephen smiles and with one last look at Tony, calls up a portal and steps through to his own bedroom back at the Sanctum.

 

02/50


End file.
